Qrow Hunter Badge
by ProbablyHeretical
Summary: Let me tell you about a dream I once had... Warning: The following fic contains spoilers for Bloodborne.
1. Chapter 1: You're supposed to forget

**A/N: Welp, it begins. And's it's not going to have _any_ OCs! Somehow... I'll figure out how, no worries.**

 **I won't keep you long, just have to state the one and only disclaimer before I go on.**

 **RWBY is owned by Rooster Teeth Productions and created by the late Monty Oum.**

 **Bloodborne was directed by** **Hidetaka Miyazaki, developed by From Software and published by Sony Computer Entertainment**

* * *

Hunting was among the most pointlessly flamboyant things anyone could do in the world of Remnant.

Most hunters, for whatever reason, refused to acknowledge this fact. As they went further into their career they liked to consider themselves more mature than they had been in their training years, more focused on the actual job than their own agendas. However, t was a known fact that a large percentage of hunters only hunt for the fame and glory. Unfortunately for those individuals, due to the large numbers of hunters there are in the kingdoms, actually _gaining_ fame and glory was nigh impossible unless you we're some form of celebrity beforehand or exceptional at what you did.

Qrow _was_ exceptional at what he did. Not for the sake of recognition from the public, but because it was his duty as a huntsman and an uncle to protect the people of Remnant. It was this mindset plus his own resolve and skill that made him legend among the hunter community. A true role model for the future generations of huntsmen and huntresses.

It did not stop him from 'prancing around like a fairy', as Taiyang had said on multiple occasions. That wasn't his fault though! A scythe requires heavy attacks in order to be truly effective, meaning large swings and larger lunges. It was necessary!

' _Summer and Raven thought it looked cool._ '

The scythe-wielder sighed morosely at the memory before continuing his hunt through the dense forest, evaporating beowolf corpses littering the ground around him. According to the map on his scroll there was a clearing half a mile away from his position. A break didn't sound like a bad idea, but he didn't feel it was necessary.

A beowolf leaped out of the canopy, diving out the huntsman with it's teeth bare and ready to rip through him. In a single deft motion, Qrow had his scythe nestled on the grimm's back. A violent tug causing the blade to rip through the grimm's torso quietly, leaving two grimm half to flop on the grass and dirt.

Qrow's eyes darted around the area, making sure he hadn't missed another one of the monsters. He was becoming sluggish, and in this line of work you need to be anything _but_ sluggish. Maybe a short rest _would_ do him some good.

* * *

After cleaving through several more beowolves and a couple ursai, the huntsman had finally reached the clearing. It was about as small as he expected, only being around twenty yards in diameter. The grass was lush and in the middle lay a small mound with an apple tree on it.

He didn't expect to find another person though.

Under the tree lay a figure covered by a hat, a bird mask, and a cloak of black feathers. They were propped up against the tree, head cast down to the ground as if they were... _asleep_.

Qrow walked slowly towards the figure, not making a sound. As he was only thirty paces away, the figure began to stir lightly. He pace slowed even more.

Around twenty paces away, the figure spoke up. "I wouldn't come closer if I was you."

The huntsman was startled briefly before backing away by a few steps. "Smart lad." The voice was definitely female. Quite old as well. The accent was unfamiliar, though it did sound...oddly comforting.

"Are you alright?" He asked the woman, who slowly rose from her place on the ground, arms crossing at her stomach. She didn't move away from the tree's shade, obscuring anything that could be useful to know about. She turned her head around slightly, possibly familiarizing herself with the area. Considering that she was here first though, it didn't make sense.

"You needn't worry about me." She responded. It was impossible to tell what her eyes were doing under her mask. But considering her silence as she looked at him, she must have been making observations. "You must be a hunter." She concluded.

"Well, huntsman is the correct terminology." He informed her. Considering her attire, she must have been a huntress herself. And considering how old she sounded, he was surprised she didn't use the correct title. The last couple generations were the ones who created the title after all.

"It matters little." She dismissed. "It all means the same, doesn't it?" She had a point there at least. Qrow also believed titles mattered very little. It was more so about what you did and how good you were at it. It dawned on him that he hadn't introduced himself.

"Qrow Branwen, by the way." the huntsman had piped up. The cloaked huntress had cocked her head slightly, and Qrow could have sworn heard her chuckling for a moment.

"Eileen." The woman nodded. She looked around again, more openly this time. "I'm not quite sure how I got here." The huntsman interests piqued up again.

"You were sleeping here when I found you." He offered. "Senility perhaps?" Eileen chuckled openly at that.

"No, I'm not old enough for _that_ yet." She assured. "Although I do distinctly remember laying on the steps to a church." She look down at herself. "I also remember bleeding a lot." The scythe-wielder frowned.

"That couldn't have been fun." He commented, trying not to pry. The huntress nodded solemnly, muttering something indecipherable.

"Well, I suppose I should be off." She said, turning to her left and after a brief moment, drawing what looked like an ancient (blunderbuss/pistol) from underneath her cloak. Qrow followed her line of sight and saw a few ursai stalk out of the tree line into the clearing. She confidently began striding towards the lumbering foes.

"Uh, Miss Eileen?" Qrow piped up again, sounding worried. "I don't think that gun is going to be very useful against an ursa, let alone three."

"Oh really?" Eileen asked snarkily. "Well, I guess we'll find out, wont' we?" The first and second foremost ursa began charging her. Qrow dashed towards the grimm himself, scythe ready to free it's head from it's shoulder. Just as the closer grimm lunged at the cloaked huntress, she fired, stunning it. She then dashed forward for some reason Qrow didn't understand.

At least, he didn't until she impaled the with her furry, clawed arm.

The huntsman skidded to a halt, shock evident on his face.

As the second one lunged at her, she ripped through the impaled ones side, catching the other one and tore it's stomach as well. The grimm would have been disembowelled, were it not for the fact that they lacked organs.

The clawed arm quickly returned to it's original appearance. It was as if it had never transformed. The huntress looked at the arm, studying it for some reason.

The forgotten ursa chose that moment to charge.

Thinking fast, Qrow came between the two as the offending grimm was upon Eileen. His blade met the ursa's shoulder and ripped through to the hip on the opposite side. After a slight delay, the grimm seemingly understood what had just happened to it and split open. The huntsman exhaled sharply, before turning towards the cloaked huntress. The same huntress who now twirling a warped short sword in her right hand lazily.

"While it was completely unnecessary, I thank you for being thoughtful." She said.

"Erm...you're welcome?" Qrow rubbed his head sheepishly. He reminded himself that it _was_ just an ursa, and easily dispatched. "It was mostly because I was in the middle of a hunt."

"Well then, you wouldn't mind being accompanied then, Mister Branwen?" Eileen asked wryly. "Looks like you could use someone more experienced to help." The huntsman gained his own rue smile.

"I'm sorry, am I being told this by some old bag of bones In a bird mask?" A short bark of laughter came from the cloaked huntress.

"Young _and_ disrespectful in the face of your elders, eh?" She asked sarcastically. "You remind me of another hunter I know."

"Were they even nearly as handsome?"

"Undoubtedly more so." She said, patting him on shoulder and gesturing to the forest behind the apple tree. "Lead on then."

* * *

The entire hunt took a total two hours and thirteen minutes. Under normal conditions, a hunt in the area should take approximately five hours.

These were _anything_ but normal conditions.

* * *

 **A/N: Bloodborne is my favourite when it comes to RWBY crossovers, which makes it a shame that there's so little art and I only hear people talking about how it _sounds_ like an interesting fanfic idea. **

**But yeah, this is a thing now! I've been thinking about for ages and now it's finally getting published.**

 **This is mostly for practising improvisation, which will make up a lot of the story. So, expect action.**

 **Also, these _will_ become longer. It's just that quality comes before quantity for me.**

 **Hope you guys enjoyed this. Until next time.**


	2. Chapter 2: Without fear in our hearts

Night had settled as the two hunters came into the city.

"You alright?" Qrow had asked as they walked through the streets of Vale. Eileen's movement had become noticeably more cautious as they walked through the city to the huntsman's home.

"Let's just say I come from somewhere less lively." She offered. "Actually, 'lively' isn't the proper word to use. Let's say...friendly. Definitely less friendly."

"It couldn't have been that bad." She shook her head, expression hidden under her mask.

"The locals despised outsiders." The cloaked hunter, as she preferred to be called, said. "Although part of that may have been because they all went mad."

"How mad?"

"They seemed to like swinging axes and many other sharp things at me." Qrow's eyes widened considerably. "Oh, but don't worry about me, lad. I can handle a angry mob." And then his eyes narrowed.

"What exactly do you mean by 'handle'?" His tone made no attempt to hide his wariness. The hunter looked at him.

"Tell me, do you know what separates us from beasts?" She asked him. The huntsman raised an eyebrow. After all, she had just asked one of the simplest questions a hunter could ask.

"Well, unlike them, we actually have a soul."

"That may be part of it. But in many cases that's not exactly true." He was about to object, until he remembered that not all of the kingdom's enemies were grimm. "No, what really separates us is fear."

"Go on." He felt somewhat intrigued by the cloaked hunter's claim.

"Do you think anything you sliced in half back there actually felt fear?" He shook his head. Why _should_ they, after all? They're creature who only exist in order to wipe out all of human and faunus kind. "It's important to have fear in our hearts. Without it, we are little more than beasts ourselves." She raised her right arm. "And that's a dangerous thing. Especially when it comes to you or me." Her armed dropped back into place. "If we are without fear, and if we go mad, we're a bigger danger to these people than any of those things back there."

"You...make a good point." Qrow admitted, shoulders slumping.

"I ended up taking it up as my duty." She continued. "To stop mad hunters before they could harm anyone, including themselves."

"..." Qrow now had a rough idea of what the woman did. There was no insistence that he was actually correct, however if he was then he was in the company of someone _very_ dangerous.

After all, it took something 'special' to be able to kill hunters.

* * *

Qrow was good at his job. It seemed only fair that he'd live in a decent house. _Even_ if being a huntsman meant he was rarely in it.

"Well, this is where I live." It wasn't especially fancy. Two floors, a kitchen, a large living room, two bathrooms for each floor and four bedrooms that never saw use. A relatively large house, sure. But the interior, while clean, was incredibly bland. His nieces used to whine about 'how it needed some color' when they were younger. It's a good thing they got used to it, he never liked disappointing them.

"It's nice." Eileen stated, walking through the door. "A welcome change of scenery at the least."

"I get the feeling you live an especially grim life." Qrow wondered aloud. The cloaked hunter shrugged.

"Yharnam, as I mentioned, was and probably remains a very unwelcoming place." The scythe wielder's brow furrowed.

"Never heard of Yharnam."

"Not surprising. The locals weren't interested in exploring or visiting neighbouring towns. And I do believe I already mentioned they're not partial to outsiders."

"Fair enough." Qrow kicked of his black shoes and hung his coat on a nearby coat rack. "I will research into it though."

"Suit yourself." Eileen removed her own feather cloak, placing it on the rack. She took a moment to remove her boots and follow the huntsman into the living room.

He turned his attention back to her, raising his eyebrows at the display. "You're _still_ wearing the hat and mask?" The removal of her cloak drew attention to her mask, her hat and her short, unkempt and slightly graying black hair. Then there were the rest of her clothes, which did a remarkable job of hiding her gender. Had it not been for the fact that she spoke, Qrow wouldn't have been able to tell if

"I don't see why not." The masked hunter said with a shrug. "Unless you have a personal problem with it..." Qrow waved her off dismissively.

"Do whatever you want, I'm making dinner." He strode into the kitchen, opening the fridge to find not much more than a couple tins of pork and beans, a couple cans of beer and some leftover pizza. Maybe he should accept that full time job at signal.

But then he would end up with even _less_ to eat.

Sighing he opened up the tins and poured the contents into a pan and left it to heat up. Coming back into the living room he found Eileen staring at some of his family pictures. Specifically, one of the few good pictures he had of him and Raven. "Someone you know?" He asked her. The old hunter shook her head.

"I assume you have some from of relationship, though." She commented.

"She's my sister." Qrow told. "Went missing over a decade ago." Eileen stared at the picture, and most likely his sister for a few moments.

"I can see the resemblance." The old hunter commented. "You think she's still around?"

"Oh yes." He knew his sister well enough to know that she was very much alive. "She _is_ a huntress after all. And a damn good one at that too." He turned back to the kitchen. "I'm assuming you're not hungry?"

"Not really, no."

"I'll leave you something in there for the morning, then." The huntsman quickly took out a bowl and fork, and helped himself to half of the pan's hot contents. "I'll be in my room, which is on the second floor and the one closest to the stairs." It was also the one he had claimed at that very moment. "You can use any of the others up there." He saw her nod in the corner of his eye as he went upstairs.

After finishing his 'dinner' Qrow started searching for information on Yharnam. Finding absolutely nothing. It wasn't really surprising considering how silly the name sounded, what does 'Yharnam' even mean?

He wanted to confront Eileen about it. However, since he hadn't slept for the past couple days, that could wait until morning.

It would have surprised him, how he fell asleep almost instantly.

* * *

 **A/N: Yes, this is _another_ short chapter. And it doesn't have _any_ action. But good news! You'll have lots of fighting next chapter as we introduce our third main character. He's more of a plot point when I think about it, but still.**

 **This chapter's actually a day late. But the real reason it didn't come out was due to internet problems and I prefer doing this stuff from home. So sorry about that. Most chapters will be on thursdays.**

 **Thank you for stopping by. Until next time.**


End file.
